"How are we robbed!" "Why are they not before Granada ?" demanded the lawyer and alertly provided the answer to his own question.

"Take locusts and give them leave to eat, being careful to say, 'This fellow's fields only!' But the locusts have wings and their nature is to eat!" The mountain robbers, if robbers they were, dined quietly, the gaunt woman promptly and painstakingly serving them.

They were going to pay, I was sure, though it might not be this noon.
The two friars seemed, quiet, simple men, dining as dumbly as if they sat in Saint Francis's refectory.

The sometime alcalde and the shipmaster were the talkers, the student sitting as though he were in the desert, eating bread and cheese and onions and looking on his book.
The lawyer watched all, talked to make them talk, then came in and settled matters.

The alcalde was the politician, knowing the affairs of the world and speaking familiarly of the King and the Queen and the Marquis of Cadiz.
The shipmaster said, "This time last year I was in London, and I saw their King.